As the picture shows, this is a way of holding your hands together to whistle with your hands (hand flute). YouTube has a video for everything, including several on "How to Whistle with Your Hands." Here’s How
Growing up, I had about 35 acres, a pony, a pond, and a treehouse. Besides a guitar, which I also had, that’s all a kid needs. A fishing pole and a can of worms were also handy. I played, adventured, explored, camped, hunted and fished. That’s what kids did back then, but that’s beside the point. Whenever dinner time came around or Mom needed me for anything, I’d hear that hand whistle. She’d come out on the deck and whistle. When I heard that, it was time to go home. I usually did.
Sometime in ’89, my Uncle Sam thought it would be a good idea if I ran around in the woods of Camp Dawson, West Virginia, for a few weeks. It's nice there. I almost enjoyed it, but you can't get there from Frankfurt, Germany. You have to go somewhere else first.
Before I flew from Frankfurt, Germany, to D.C., I shared my itinerary. I don’t recollect any details about the flight, but I do remember walking through Dulles International Airport and hearing the whistle. Yep, the whistle, and nobody does that like my Mom. Sure enough, it was her. In the time I had flown from Frankfurt to D.C., Mom had driven from Spruce Pine, NC, to Dulles International Airport, just to see me for a few moments. I love my Mom. I try, but I think she loves me more. She had a nine-month head start.
Hark! What sound I hear
Call from miles and years ago?
Dinner is ready!
Peace, Y'all!
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